


Magic In The Air

by ebenflo



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Aurors, First Time, Fluff, Hogwarts, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, No Underage Sex, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, Peter is 22, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Starker, Tony is 49, a lot of references to both Harry Potter and MCU, powers but not superheroes, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenflo/pseuds/ebenflo
Summary: Peter Parker was the youngest ever rookie auror recruited to their department. He was hard-working, head-strong, utterly infuriating in his lack of abiding by the rules...and devastatingly beautiful - at least to the eyes of one Tony Stark. It didn't help one bit that Peter Parker had also once been his student, before Tony had been dragged kicking and screaming back out of retirement and their paths crossed again. When Peter is given to him to mentor, sparks were bound to fly.30/3/19: CHAPTER 6 UP





	1. The Prefect's Bathroom

For years after he had left his post as Head Auror, Hogwarts had been home to Anthony Stark. Amongst the ancient stone walls and fraying tomes he had carved a niche for himself - and a reputation. Biting, witty, sarcastic...yes, as Professor of Defence Against The Dark Arts he had been a force to be reckoned with. Stark allowed himself a small smirk as he swept along the deserted corridors, the tail of his robes swishing quietly behind him as he walked. It were as though, if he listened hard enough, he could hear the echo of students voices, bouncing off the high stone ceilings, and the slamming of heavy oak doors. The roar of the crowds over the Quidditch pitch on a summer evening. The soothing bubbling of potions. And if he closed his eyes for just a moment, Stark was sure he would see him there behind his eyelids, playing like a Muggle movie; the haunting glimmer of a grin, dancing mischievous eyes.

_No._

Stark wouldn't put himself through that torment again. He had closed that particular chapter of his life four years ago, considered himself rid of that temptation just as soon as graduation was over that year. The boy himself had made sure of it, distancing himself and taking up a training position an entire ocean away. And if Stark was hurt by that decision, what of it? There was nothing to be done for it now. However many nights Tony had stayed awake, staring into the remnant embers of another fire, wondering if Peter was thinking of him too. No, it wouldn't to dwell too long on the past. He was here to do a job, not get lost down memory lane about his depraved thoughts about a student - his own student, for Merlin's sake!

He had been posted at Hogwarts to look into the mystery of a new threat. The war was long won but even after the Vanquishing of Voldemort, even in the peaceful years that followed there had always been a simmering malevolence - the promise that they could never fully be rid of the dark. The whispers of a new uprising had become loud enough that the Ministry felt it appropriate to drag Stark out of his self-imposed retirement and back into active duty. They wanted the best, Natasha had said at the briefing back at the Ministry last Monday, quirking a trim eyebrow in Stark's direction. Tony supposed she also meant ' _and_   _lay off the mead, too'_ , but he had bitten back his typical caustic comeback and given her a stiff nod. She'd saved his arse on more than one occasion. She had earned his respect. Now Natasha was no where to be seen, assigned to somewhere in Siberia with Rogers. His own partner Rhodey had taken a nasty blow after their last encounter with some rogue wizards - followers of the Old Order - and was laid up in St Mungo's with a seemingly irreversible leg-lock curse.

Stark wondered when he would meet the new partner he had been assigned. Someone new was all they told him - in Director Fury's case, with the hint of a sneering smirk. Stark didn't think this new threat could be all that serious if they had paired him with a rookie. But why bring him back into the fold if that was the case? Nothing made sense.

"Wet behind the ears," Fury had remarked when Stark had asked about his partner. "But I'm told he's the best of his year."

"Yeah well he better be, I'm not here to mother him," Stark grumbled. Fury said nothing, just levelled him with another knowing smirk.

Stark let out a huffing sigh as he made his way around the last corner to the Prefect's bathroom. It wasn't strictly orthodox to be using the facilities - not during term time - but now, when a good ninety-nine percent of the students were away, it was a far more tempting pleasure than the staff facilities. They had put him up in his old room. 'For the memories' the head mistress had told him when he arrived yesterday. There was little to be had by way of memories though - the new occupant had replaced all of his touches with their own. Stark had clucked softly in disapproval at the posters of some Muggle band he had never heard of strewn all over the walls. How old was this new Professor anyway? 

As he eased open the door of the bathroom he was met with a swirling cloud of mist and bubbles scented like salty ocean spray. Over the familiar gurgle of swirling hot water he heard a charming soft male voice conversing in low tones with a giggling female companion. Stark inched closer, brushing aside stray bubbles and squinting in the lamp light.

There was actually only one occupant in the bathtub - a young man. They were leaning partly out of the water, chatting casually with the Mermaid painting on the wall. Stark could only see part of his back and shoulders - an expanse of pale milky skin, shining with perspiration and moisture above the waterline. Brown hair darkened to near black fell in short curls licking at the nape of a long elegant neck. Alarm bells were ringing in Stark's head. This could be another staff member, looking for some privacy - or worse yet, a Prefect who had stayed back for the holidays. All the sensible parts of him were telling him to retreat before he could be spotted - find another bathroom in the staff quarters. Instead:

"Hello?"

The person whirled around sending water splashing over the sides of the tub and fanning out towards Stark's shoes, and a little cloud of blue and green bubbles exploding into the air. He found himself staring into a familiar face, doe eyes wide with surprise.

"Professor Stark?!"

"Peter?!"

 

 


	2. The Graduation Ball

_**4 Years Ago** _

It was graduation night and for once, breaking with the tradition of a more austere send-off, the staff body had allowed the students to throw a graduation bash. Of course, this sort of thing could only be the brainchild of Michelle “MJ” Jones. Kind of like their version of a ‘homecoming’, Ned Leeds had tried to explained to a bemused Professor Stark. Between Leeds, MJ and Parker they formed some kind of holy trinitity, thick as thieves since first year. With a great deal of mirth, Stark wondered if Ned Leeds had a date to this “homecoming” the kid had been babbling on about all term. That thought led to the much more dangerous line of “I wonder if Peter Parker has a date”.

Tony took another swig of the spiked pumpkin juice he had managed to smuggle past the entrance. He had long excused himself after the opening pleasantaries, with zero desire to spend his evening watching a bunch of fumbling 17 and 18 year-olds fall over their shoes, all while attempting to secure a clumsy grope of a member of the opposite sex. They might be witches and wizards but most of them were still ridiculous teenagers.

He was standing out on a balcony, staring at the great lake, its waves gently rocking by way of an evening breeze, making it seem like its surface was studded with tiny diamonds. From far away he could hear the muffled noises of the live band hired for the evening, every so often punctuated by a particularly shrill laugh or holler.

So this was it then. Graduation, another year of senior students come and gone. It was the same every year, but for some reason this year Stark felt a certain hollowness, like something in his centre had been carved out with a great spoon. **_You know the reason Tony_** , said an insidious voice in his head, which for some reason sounded a lot like Happy, the bartender down at the Three Broomsticks.

“Go away,” Tony muttered at no-one in particular.

“Oh, I’m sorry Sir,” said a familiar voice, bashful and cautious. Tony had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn’t even realised he was no longer alone. “I-I didn’t realise anyone else was out here Professor. I’ll just-uh- I’ll just go. Yeah, I’ll go.”

But Peter did nothing of the sort. Tony turned his eyes to the one who had intruded on his private moment - and to be grossly honest, the one who had been intruding on all his private thoughts for the past year, too. Peter Parker sure scrubbed up nicely for a bratty Gryffindor who always ran around with his shirt untucked and his tie askew, getting into all sorts of trouble with those two miscreant friends of his. His Aunt May surely had something to do with tonight’s selection, Tony pondered. Peter was wearing dress robes made of an inky navy blue so deep it was bordering on black, particularly in the moonlight. Over one shoulder hung a long heavy cape lined with crimson, secured near his throat with a small silver clasp in the shape of a spider. His usually untameable mop of brown curls was slicked back with an elegant part, save for a playful cowlick hanging over his forehead. He looked -in a word - delectable. Tony coughed, feeling an uncomfortably heavy warmth between his legs.

“Shouldn’t you be inside with your little friends?”

The boy didn’t seem to take the hint. Maybe he had been drinking spiked pumpkin juice too - it would certainly explain the emboldened way he stepped closer to Tony. Peter’s eyes flicked from the flask in Tony’s hand, to Tony’s mouth, and his eyes.

“I’m leaving,” Peter tried again. His hands were jammed into the pockets of his dress robes and he ducked his head adorably. “Tomorrow. I- they accepted me over in New York…there’s a portkey waiting for me. First light.”

“That’s uh -that’s good,” Tony said, trying to keep his tone light, even though the sadness in his heart said something very different. “That’ll be good - for you, I mean. To study abroad.”

“I mean…not like there’s anything here to hold me back, right Sir?” Peter’s eyes were like coals, hot and fierce. Tony could sense the challenge in them, daring him to do something. If he were a stronger man, he could resist this, walk away for good. Or maybe, if he were a stronger man still, he would have done something about it. But what Tony did instead was remain silent, clutching the stone balustrade in front of him. The tension simmered, persistent, eager. Tony’s mouth was painfully dry, and he tried to divert the conversation.

“What about your Aunt? She’s your only family right, won’t you miss her?”

“Oh, she’s coming too.”

Tony said nothing. Peter let out a soft sigh, sounding weary and old. Tony didn’t like the way it sounded. It didn’t suit the bubbly, annoyingly chipper Peter Parker he had come to know (crave, desire; the choices were endless and Tony was embarassed to apply any of them to the lovely 18 year old in front of him).

“Why do you hate me, sir?” Peter asked quietly, looking at Tony out the corner of his eye. His comment took Tony by surprise. He was tough on Peter, sure, but only because he saw the potential in the boy and wanted desperately for him to succeed. Peter had a difficult start to life, his parents both taken out by rogue Death Eaters during a mission gone wrong. Growing up with his Aunt who did the best she could. And sure, sometimes Tony gave Peter a wide berth, but he honestly thought it was for the best - for both of them.

“Professor?”

Peter was alarmingly close to him now, so close Tony could see the flecks of starlight in his deep dark eyes, and smell the faintest sweet tang of liquor on his breath.

“Have you- have you been drinking, Parker?”

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical, Sir?” Peter asked, shooting a meaningful look at the flask in Tony’s hand.

“Touche Parker. Why- why would you think I hate you?”

“It’s just…you always work me so hard. Harder than everyone else. Nothing I do seems good enough for you. And then…then all the other times, you avoid me. It’s like I’m not good enough for you,” Peter choked out.

And just like that Tony’s heart broke.

“You are good enough, Kid. More than.”

“It’s just…I wanted to be like you,” Peter muttered, eyes wide and hopeful.

“I always hoped you would be better,” Tony whispered back. There was something blooming between them, something dark and forbidden and gods, Tony never wanted this moment to end, consequences be damned.

“Can I try something?” Peter murmured, stepping closer to Tony. Warmth radiated from Peter, even through the thick layers of his dress robes. Tony felt like he’d been hit with a hex, fixing him to the very spot on which he stood. Peter closed the gap between them further, sending an aching bolt of arousal to Tony's groin.

It wasn’t the perfect kiss. It wasn’t even much of a kiss, come to think of it. Just the soft, dry press of Peter’s lips against Tony’s, the slightest lick of a tongue, tender and hesitant against Tony’s bottom lip, and then it was all over.

Nothing stirred in the hush of the evening around them. Neither of them breathed. Tony didn’t say anything, transfixed by the moist pout of Peter’s mouth.

Tony read the moment Peter misunderstood his silence, clear as day. A kind of horrified realisation washed over Peter’s face and he took a few stumbling steps backwards as though he had been branded.

“Peter- wait.”

“No, I’m- I’m sorry Sir. I shouldn’t have done that. Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry. I-I’ll go.”

And this time, Peter really did go, fleeing into the night.

Tony wouldn’t see him again for four years.

*

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BONUS:

Hogwarts!Peter Parker

(Found on Pinterest. If this is your image let me know so I can credit you properly!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much fun to write! If you're enjoying the story please please hit the Kudos button. Better yet, please consider leaving me a review to let me know what you think - every bit of feedback is sincerely appreciated xxx


	3. Maybe I'll Move To France

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA the Hogwarts AU that nobody asked for but I'm going to keep writing anyway *cackles madly*

“I’m quitting.”

“What?” Rhodey’s voice crackled loudly across the room, coming from the small fireplace from where Tony had Floo-called him. “Why?”

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Tony hissed, looking this way and that as if he might be ambushed by Death Eaters, or worse, a certain floppy-haired baby Auror.“I dunno, maybe I’ll move to France, I’ll keep bees. I’ll be a bee keeper.”

“Tony, you don’t have the faintest idea how to keep bees,” Rhodey reasoned, hiding a laugh behind a cough. “Why this sudden change, what’s happening over there?”

“How are they going with your legs huh? Any improvements?”

“Don’t change the subject. My legs are the same. I’m still stuck in this bed, which is why I can’t come over there and kick your ass. Now will you tell me what’s going on?”

“You know there’s some guys I’ve been talking to over in the US, great bunch of Mediwizards. One of them, Dr Strange, would be happy to take a look at your case, review it, or something.”

“ _Tony._ ”

Tony felt defeated. He looked at the little tumbler of mead in his hand, turning it this way and that in the firelight, letting the amber liquid slosh around. He had never felt more alone, even with Rhodey at the other end of the Floo.

“He’s here,” Tony said glumly.

“Wait, who’s here? Who’s 'he', Tony?”

“Peter Parker.”

“Peter Park- not, kissed you on the balcony Peter Parker?”

“The very same.”

“Not, topped his class and broke every record at the New York Academy and came home like the prodigal son, Peter Parker?”

“You got it.”

“Why is he- ohhhh. _That’s_ your rookie,” Rhodey realised, snapping his fingers. “That's who Fury brought over to partner with you? Damn Stark, these new recruits are getting younger and younger, makes a man feel ancient.”

Tony squished his eyes shut and bit the inside of his mouth.

“I walked in on him. Tonight. In the bathroom.”

Rhodey made a punched-out wheezing noise.

“Why on earth did you do that?” Rhodey asked, a little concerned - and for good reason, Tony thought. Tony realised with dismay how much he sounded like a dirty pervert.

“I didn’t know he was in there!” Tony protested loudly, forgetting he was trying to keep quiet. Taking note of his surrounds he dropped his voice again. “He was in the Prefect’s Bathroom. I was going to take a little dip, thought it would be late enough that no-one else would be around. It’s not like I was creeping on him.”

“What did you do?” Rhodey asked, a little too invested in Tony’s story. Tony supposed it must be getting boring in St Mungo’s, even with Fury keeping him supplied with the latest case files to review and Natasha sending snacks from around the world. He just wished his personal demons didn’t have to be the fodder to keep Rhodey entertained.

“Nothing,” Tony said. “I apologised for intruding and got out of there as fast as I could.”

“And you don’t think he’s going to be a bit hurt by that?” Rhodey’s tone was a little accusatory.

“What was I supposed to do, join him?” Stark snarked.

Rhodey sniffed.

“I don’t know Anthony, but if he’s your guy then you need to work this out. He's your responsibility now, whether you like it nor. Neither of you can afford to let your past jeopardise the current mission.”

Tony smirked, but his expression was fond.

“Yes, _mother._ Good night Rhodey.”

“Good night, you great big idiot.”


	4. Summer's In The Air

_He was dreaming. Stark knew this because firstly, he was in one of the greenhouses, a place he rarely if ever went even during his time teaching at Hogwarts. Second, it was a beautiful summer day outside the greenhouse’s glass walls, and last he checked, winter cloak rugged up snug around his shoulders as he arrived at Hogwarts, it was most definitely winter._

_The heat of summer pressed in all around him, filling the air with a hot, wet humidity, and he loosened the cravat wound around his throat, his robes long discarded. He darted a look around, recognising some of the very rare and very poisonous species of plants around him in full bloom._

_“Greenhouse three…” he murmured._

_“Yes, where they keep the rare and exotic varieties locked up, or so we were always told,” Peter’s voice was sweet and delicate, like the tinkling of distant bells. When had he snuck in? Oh, he was in so much trouble. So was Tony, for that matter. “Is that me, Professor? Am I rare and exotic?”_

_Peter strolled leisurely towards him, all sinewy limbs and fawn-like innocence, though the hint of a smirk on his cupid’s bow lips was anything but innocent._

_“Peter what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in class?” Even in his dream Stark felt a stab of guilt that threatened to displace the heavy throb of arousal._

_Peter too had shed his summer robes, his tie discarded and his shirt unbuttoned so Tony could see the sweat collecting at the hollow where his collarbones met._

_“Oh Mister Stark, class was long since dismissed. School’s out, Professor…” Peter licked his plump lips, palming at the growing bulge in Tony’s slacks._

_Tony let out a guttural moan, before clamping his hand over his mouth, as if he was afraid of getting caught._

_“Peter w-we shouldn’t be doing this.”_

_“But why?” Peter asked sweetly, even as he dropped to his knees on the hard cobblestones. “This is your dream isn’t it? It’s just us. Just you and me.” With an adept turn of his wrist he freed Tony’s aching cock from the confines of his trousers. Eyelashes fluttering shut, Peter peppered little butterfly kisses on the tip that threatened to buckle Tony’s knees. Tony let out a choked gasp as Peter’s tongue darted out, collecting up the splutters of precum collecting at the slit with gentle flicks._

_“Peter I- oh- please- d-don’t stop.”_

_“Not going to,” Peter murmured hotly against the veiny column of Tony’s cock, his hands gripping Tony’s thighs. “I want you Professor. I want to taste you.”_

_“Peter— oh, fuck, Peter!“ Tony jammed his curled up fist in his mouth, fighting back a hoarse cry as Peter wrapped his moist lips around the head, suckling enthusiastically._

_One of his hands crept up past Tony’s hip and found Tony’s hand, winding their fingers together._

_“Mister Stark…” The boy whispered sweetly as he freed Tony’s cock with a slick ‘pop’. “Please Sir…Mister Stark."_

"Mister Stark?"

Cold leathery fingers closed around his wrist and Tony frowned, his eyelids partly slitting open.

“I-wha—?"

“Mister Stark it’s just me, Friday.”

Stark fully opened his eyes to be met with the sight of his old house elf, Friday, crouching by his bed in the staff quarters. Tony wrinkled his nose, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

“What time is it?”

“Almost seven, Sir. You were dreaming, Mister Stark.”

Coming in his sleep like a teenager! He would be embarrassed if this was anyone else but Friday. She had always been so loyal and discrete. Tony once offered to free her but Friday gave the compelling argument that Hogwarts was the only home she had ever known. She now blinked up at him with big curious eyes, set in her small pinched but wizened face.

“Oh -uh- thank you, Friday” Tony cleared his throat.

“The headmistress has asked to see you at breakfast…and your partner, Sir.”

“Peter..? Oh um, where is he?”

“Young Master Parker has already gone down to breakfast. But he left you a note Sir, outside your room.”

So Peter knew where his room was. Ohhh that was bad. Or good? Tony apparently had significant difficulty telling bad from good and right from wrong these days. Friday silently handed him a piece of parchment which Tony hesitantly unfolded.

 ******_It was good to see you too, sir._**  
**_Looking forward to working with you.  
Peter_ **


	5. Morning Would

Tony wished he were a better man, he really did. But between his dream last night, and the vision of Peter (so very, very naked) in the bathtub a mere hour or two before that, well, there was no way he wasn’t going to end up in the shower with the door double-locked and his hand wrapped around his dick, having the guiltiest wank of his life. Images and memories flashed unbidden through his mind like scintillating snapshots; most persistent of all was the feeling of Peter’s exquisite mouth wrapped around his cock, and the obscene bulge his cock-head formed as it stretched out the boy’s cheek…

_Please, oh, Mister Stark…_

Tony let out a single ragged shout as he pumped himself to completion, cumming around his shaking fingers.

“Oh gods…”

Ah, definitely one of the perks of staff having their own private quarters and facilities. Tony said a silent shameful apology in his head to whichever poor professor had taken over his quarters, as he miserably watched the cascading water wash away the remains of his spend down the drain.

Limping out of the shower he caught sight of his reflection in the antique mirror hanging on the wall. His hair was a tousled, dripping mess, his cheeks flushed and shiny. His expression looked giddy and thoroughly fucked out. In other words, he looked like a school-boy who had just been caught pleasuring himself in the Quidditch locker room.

“Get a grip, Stark,” Tony muttered to himself, reaching for a fluffy towel from the stack Friday had left out for him. A second later he realised what he had said and let out a humourless laugh. Apparently, getting a grip of himself was _exactly_ what he had just done, and clearly not the answer to his problems - not if he hoped to stay on task and see the mission through.

“C’mon Stark, focus. Head Auror, Order of Merlin.” Tony gritted his teeth, repeating the words like a mantra to himself. “Hogwarts Professor. Head Auror, Order of Merlin. _You can do this_.”

“Do what, Sir? Who are you talking to?” enquired a polite voice.

“Godric’s Balls! Don’t you knock?!” Tony demanded, throwing a scandalised glare at Vision, one of the Castle’s resident ghosts, who had come gliding through the wall adjacent to him.

“I would were I could,” Vision said placidly, looking down at his translucent hands.

“How long have you been standing- er, floating there?” Tony asked firmly, tightening the towel around his hips. Not that ghosts seemed to care about human privacy or decency around here - but Stark certainly did. Vision regarded him with the same neutral expression.

“Not long, Sir.”

Tony seriously doubted that. Thank the gods ghosts couldn’t read minds too.

“It’s good to have you back Sir, the castle is far less…colourful, without your spirited presence to enliven its halls.”

Tony wasn’t sure if ghosts understood sarcasm but Vision was hedging far too close to it for comfort.

“Vision I haven’t even been gone that long.”

“No, I suppose not..” Vision paused, before floating a few feet away and shooting Tony another inquisitive look.

“I see young Master Parker has also returned to the castle.” Vision said in a measured tone.

Merlin’s Beard! Was everyone to announce this news to him? Who was next, the Giant Squid?!

“Y-yes, well…we’re here on business. Ministry business, official…stuff…you know how it is.” Tony tried to muster as much authority as one could when one was dripping wet and mostly nude. Tried and failed, dismally.

“I see, Sir.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Vision, but the ghost seemed to either not notice or not care about his apparent discomfort around the topic that was Peter Parker.

“Um…Vision?” Tony gestured to the towel slung low, the water dripping from him now forming an uncomfortable puddle on the floor.

“Ah, quite right Sir. As you were.”

“Oh and Vis? I’d prefer if you kept this-” Tony gestured loosely towards the shower. “Between us.”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you mean,” Vision said flatly, before floating right back out the way he came.

“Aghhh…” Tony grumbled softly, smacking his head on the stone wall. Thank Merlin he had a case to solve, otherwise the castle occupants were going to drive him mad - and he’d only been back a day, for Albus’ sake!

Remembering that the Headmistress and Parker were waiting downstairs to speak to him, Tony hastily finished getting ready for the day, throwing on some charcoal wool slacks, a black shirt and a matching black peacoat. He had always been a little vain by nature, but if he did pay a little more attention to his attire for the day, dressed a little to impress…well, no-one needed to know. Tony tried to tell himself this was just another day at the office, just another mission to finish, but the heaviness in his gut and the dampness of his palms betrayed him. The sway that boy had over him…Tony shook his head. No, it simply wouldn’t do. Tony was used to dealing with all sorts of creatures of darkness, fiends beyond imagination, but this particular personal demon was one he shouldn’t be pursuing. Nothing good could come of it, of that he was sure. He just needed to get them through this case. He had to keep the boy safe; if anything happened to Peter it was on _him_ , and he didn’t need that on his conscience.

_So much for closing the book on that chapter of his life, huh…_

He chanced a quick glance in the mirror as he passed, flicking his wand to cast a simple charm to tame his messy locks, before making his way down to the Great Hall.

The headmistress was not at her usual post, instead sitting at a long side table with her head bent over, talking to Peter in hushed tones. She looked up when Tony approached, the expression on her face most displeased at his tardiness. Tony took great pains to avoid looking at Peter. The headmistress clucked her tongue softly.

“Ah, so good of you to join us Anthony. Eventually.” Tony knew he was in trouble when she used his first name. Tony tried to turn on the charm, which he had known to previously be effective.

“My apologies Headmistress, I was otherwise…indisposed.” Tony beamed at her with his most disarming smile, hoping it would be enough. It wasn’t.

“If that’s what you wish to call it.” The headmistress’ lips were pursed in a thin line and Tony again felt like a naughty student being reprimanded. He had the horrible suspicion that she knew EXACTLY what he had been up to. “I was briefing Mr Parker here on some of the…circumstances, surrounding the need to have you both on site. You are of course, already acquainted.”

Tony knew he couldn’t avoid it any longer. His eyes flicked to the boy - man - next to the headmistress, subconsciously pulling himself up to his full height.

“Well well well...Mister Parker.”

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**Professor Stark**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock Holmes era Robert Downey Jr is how I picture Professor Stark. All those lovely vests and coats!
> 
> Thank you for those of you who have been tuning in for each chapter of this pretty ridiculous mash-up. I love writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it! If you liked it please consider clicking the Kudos button or leaving a review- it really makes my day seeing and reading lovely feedback from you ^_^ xx


	6. Thanos

In his initial shock, followed by his subsequent haste to retreat from the Prefect’s Bathroom the night before, Tony hadn't been afforded ample opportunity to appreciate the man Peter Parker had become in the intervening years. Where Tony once recalled a boy not yet free of the clutches of youth, all awkward gangly limbs and sloping shoulders, there now sat a lovely young man who carried himself with a much more self-assured air. If Peter had been beautiful then, well...he was utterly exquisite now. His face had lost some of the baby fat, the sharp cut of jawline more pronounced than ever. There was a healthy glow across the top of his cheekbones, as though he too had just been through a hot shower (Tony tried not to linger on that particular thought, though the image of a sopping wet, warm Peter was extremely tempting). The contour of Peter's nose was a little irregular, as if he had broken it recently, and the skin there was dusted with the faintest smattering of pale freckles. His hair was a little longer than Tony recalled, and it flopped in ringlets over one side of his forehead.

Despite his maturity, Tony still detected an air of softness to him, a tender light that blurred the harsh edges brought upon by adulthood. Peter Parker, it seemed, was ever a sight for sore eyes. And _oh,_ did Tony yearn to look.

It took far longer than was appropriate (or quite possibly, sane) for Tony to realise two things: number one, that Peter was addressing him directly, speaking in such lovely, soft explanatory tones, and second (perhaps far more threatening to Tony's immediate well-being), that the headmistress was glaring at him like he had grown a second head - which to be honest, in his line of work was not even that impossible.

“Are you okay, Professor Stark?" Peter gently enquired. He looked a little concerned, which was probably warranted, given the ravenous way Tony must have been staring at him. Perhaps misinterpreting the situation, and the open, greedy look on Tony's face, Peter pushed a steaming platter of food Tony’s direction. “If you’re hungry there’s still quite a bit left from breakfast, sir. Here, they made your favourite...I'm sorry, I already ate while we were waiting for you."

Peter gestured at a plate of hot, steaming sausages and Tony groaned inwardly. He really didn’t need to think about Peter eating sausages. Or bananas. Or anything vaguely phallic in the vicinity of Peter's mouth, for that matter.

“Thank you Mister Parker but I prefer my breakfast in liquid form,” Tony replied smoothly, reaching for the self-warming pot of coffee that had just re-filled itself.

Peter looked a little crest-fallen.

“You can call me Peter,” the younger man offered. He shot Tony a shaky smile that did nothing but stoke the embers burning in Tony’s belly.

“You can call each other whatever you like, but I rather feel we have more pressing matters at hand," Headmistress Potts remarked coolly.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts did NOT suffer fools lightly. Tony had, at one brilliant time, in an otherwise dark, grim past, been one such fool. Tony had been an idiot to think he could ever deserve such a woman. True to his form, after several tearful tantrums and a broken engagement, they were over. That was not to say the memories of their time together had not kept his cold heart warm on many a night both at the time and since; Tony was just smart enough to know that Pepper deserved much more and much better than what he could offer.

 _So does Peter_ , a nasty little voice whispered at the back of Tony's mind. Tony gulped, sipping his hot coffee and forcing his traitorous brain to focus on what Potts was saying. _And yet here we are._

 **"Shush!"** Tony muttered to himself, earning himself concurrent confused and alarmed looks from both Pepper and Peter.

"As I was saying," Pepper huffed. "They seem to be working for Thanos."

"What?" Tony's eyes narrowed at the sound of the name. A heavy stone dropped in his gut and stayed there, robbing him of what little appetite he had. “Say that name again."

 _"Thanos."_ Peter interjected helpfully, looking a little bashful when he realised he had interrupted the Headmistress. He continued, despite the chiding look she threw him. "They’re known as the Children of Thanos, or at least that's what they're calling themselves. Kinda like Death Eaters I suppose? But there's not that many of them. Not like when You Know Who was in power.“

"At least not yet." Pepper looked grim. "We were recently infiltrated, Tony. The castle was breached...a scout mission we think. Thanos is after something, and he's sending out his henchmen to do his dirty work.

"Tony why are you making that face?" Pepper stopped and looked at him quizzically. "Do you know him already?"

"Thanos..." Tony milled the name around in his mouth, letting it roll around and stew. "This isn't the first time I've come across him. Pep?"

The headmistress looked a little unimpressed at Tony's informal use of his old nickname for her.

"Pepper do you remember New York?"

"How could I forget," Potts said dryly. You almost took out half the city and you let me believe you died. **Yet again**."

"Yeah yeah, I know. But that was him, I'm sure of it."

"Thanos?" Tony felt a warm hand on his elbow and looked up to meet Peter's velvet gaze.

"The same. But why here, why now? Why Hogwarts? What could he possibly want from a castle full of school children and a couple of crusty old Professors?"

"I'll let that last bit slide," Pepper said, her pink lips set in a firm, thin line. "We think there's something, here in the castle. Something he's after."

"Something he's...collecting?" Tony pondered, almost to himself. "But what? What's his Endgame?"

"Well we're not entirely sure," Pepper admitted. "And that's what you're here to find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm what do we think Thanos could be after? ;)
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short! It doesn't really fit with what I wanted to put next.
> 
> As always, your support is really appreciated. So if you like the story, please feel free to hit the kudos button or leave a comment ^_^


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